


Meet Me Halfway

by NosAstra



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Fluff, Implied Jaal/Ryder Close Friendship, Insecurity, Profanity, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trust Issues, canon character death, complicated romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NosAstra/pseuds/NosAstra
Summary: When Renee Ryder eventually meets Reyes Vidal in the crime-ridden town of Kadara, she’s instantly intrigued by him. Everything about him screams casual, and she’s relieved that someone in this galaxy isn’t taking everything so damn seriously. But he’s a man of secrets and she knows that - so while she plays along with his casual flirtation, she’s also keeping him at arm’s length the entire time.But their adventures together out in the Badlands show her a different side of Reyes, one that reminds her of simpler and more honest times. She wonders if maybe it’s time she started putting a little faith in people, a little trust. Who better to start with than this charming smuggler with a heart of gold?*Major spoilers for the Kadara Arc*





	1. The Distraction

Ryder let out a deep breath at the entrance to the Outcast Headquarters. It’d been a while since she’d gone to any party, much less as someone’s plus-one. If she was being honest with herself, she felt more than a little nervous about the whole night (date? Was this a date? Reyes had suggested as such over the vidcon…along with a scandalous promise of not being a gentleman at Ryder’s request). Going to a party held by one of the Most Awful people Ryder had the pleasure of meeting this side of the universe didn’t exactly seem like the best date idea, though.

It was probably just a front for both of them, she admitted to herself. A chance to get in behind the scenes and do a little recon on Sloane Kelly, for the sake of both the Initiative and the Resistance. But if the night ended with some key intel and some…afterparty celebration between the two of them, it would be a night well spent.

Ryder rolled her shoulders back in a wide circle before steeling herself and walking up to the guard at the entrance.

“Hold up. This is a private event.”

“I’m here with someone. Name’s Ryder.” she replied, even and calm.

The guard glanced down his clipboard before looking back up at her, “There’s no Ryder on this list.”

“She’s with me.”

Ryder glanced to her side, just now catching the sound of his footsteps in her right ear. Damn, he was sneakier than she thought.

“Reyes Vidal,” he announced to the guard before winking at Ryder and gallantly walking right through.

The guard didn’t even seem fazed, slightly rolling his eyes before turning to Ryder expectantly.

“Well? Go on through. You’re good.”

Ryder arched an eyebrow and fell in step behind the Kadara smuggler.

The smell was what hit her first. Like hard liquor, sand, and smoke, accompanied by loud music competing with even louder conversations throughout the room. And right at the end of the room was the life of the party herself, Sloane Kelly, lounging on her throne….and looking bored as all hell.

A pleasant, angaran female voice rang out, “Reyes Vidal. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”

“Remember what I said about being ‘fashionably late’?” Vidal smirked.

The angara wasn’t even paying attention to him, her eyes intently gazing at Ryder instead.

“Shh. Introduce me to your companion,” she told him, voice lilting ever so pleasantly at the end.

Reyes cleared his throat and stood up straight, “Pathfinder, meet Keema Dohrgun. She’s the angaran representative to Sloane. …And a friend.”

Keema had her hands on her hips and was gazing approvingly at Ryder, from head to toe.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Ryder ventured, unsure of whether or not the woman was flirting with her (and if it was acceptable for her to be flirting back).

“You, as well, Pathfinder. Reyes mentioned your…professionalism.”

Reyes stiffened a little at the mention.

“I was hoping he’d bring you, Pathfinder. You’re _all_ he talks about lately,” Keema said loudly.

Ryder arched an eyebrow again and smirked, casting a glance at Reyes, “Is that so?”

Reyes cleared his throat again and shifted his weight on his feet, “Sorry to cut this short, but I need to go take care of something.”

“Abandoning me already?” Ryder joked, trying to make her voice sound casual.

“It won’t take long,” he reassured, “Listen, there are…important players here tonight. You should mingle. Make a good impression, you know.”

 _Ah, I thought so. Less of a date, more of an opportunity to gather more intel,_ Ryder thought. _No problem, I can work with that._

“Uh-huh, you treat all your dates this way? Or am I just special?” she teased light-heartedly.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” his voice tilted lower. He gave the two women a patented wink and started walking back towards the door.

“And there he goes,” Keema narrated, almost expectantly. She looked the human Pathfinder over once more before testing the waters, “He likes you, you know.”

“Uh-huh sure,” she chuckled lightly, “That’s why he abandoned me within 30 seconds of walking in here, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be back soon. If there’s one thing I know about Reyes Vidal, it’s that everything he does has a purpose.”

\- - - - -

After mending a turian-angaran relationship, making a random gambler’s day that much richer, and exchanging…pleasantries with Sloane Kelly, Ryder was exhausted from socializing. She found herself back at the makeshift bar that Umi had put together and politely refused being the guinea pig for some strange new cocktail Umi had thought up. Ryncol sounded perfect for making her brain feel numb for a few precious hours, but she wasn’t exactly in trusted company for such an event. Kadara Port probably wasn’t the best place to get wasted, among exiles and thieves and smugglers…

 _Speaking of_.

She begrudgingly abandoned the bar and set out to track down Reyes to find out what helpful intel he had discovered on his end. He probably stole some implicating files or was meeting with some shady contacts from within the Outcasts, or hell, he probably had contacts within the Collective itself.

“SAM, any idea where Reyes went?”

“It appears he disappeared into a nearby room shortly after you two parted, Pathfinder. I recommend checking there first.”

“Hmm. That’s just a storage room, SAM. What was he hoping to find in there?”

\- - - - -

Ryder glanced around before opening the door to the small room, only to immediately hear a familiar voice curse out loud about…serial numbers?

Stepping in further, she saw no other than the infamous Reyes Vidal hunched over a bunch of storage containers, almost frantically searching for something. _You have got to be kidding me._

“Take the night off. Come out for a drink. Riiight, should’ve known you were up to something, Vidal.”

Startled, Reyes turned and looked at her, almost doe-eyed. “Ryder! I-it’s not what it looks like – “

“Uh-huh. So you _didn’t_ use me as a distraction to go through Sloane’s private stash, instead of I don’t know, gathering intel or…enjoying the party you invited me to in the first place?” she quipped, tone still light and joking. She wasn’t really angry at him. He was a smuggler, she had suspected as much from him anyway. …But it was still kind of satisfying to see him squirm.

Reyes chuckled nervously, “O-okay, yes, you’re right. But it’s for both our benefit! I promise – “

“You’ve been making a lot of promises lately – “ she teased, before footsteps outside the door interrupted her train of thought.

“Shit! Someone’s coming.” Reyes stepped closer to the door to keep a lookout, “We need a distraction – “

Unconsciously or otherwise, Reyes had also stepped closer into Ryder’s personal space, sending a whiff of his cologne to her nostrils. She stared at him for a beat, his eyes slightly wide and hinting at panic, his features so soft under the dull lighting of the storage room, and before she could realize it, she stepped right in front of him and held his cheek with her gloved hand before pulling him down for a kiss.

Reyes let out a soft noise of surprise as his eyes shifted from wide and disbelieving to soft and almost-closed. He leaned into the kiss, inhaling the smell of leather from her jacket and placing his hands ever so gently above her hips. Her kiss was firm and intentional, and the sudden gentleness of his response was…unexpected. She had imagined Reyes would be rough and firm in his affections – not that she’d imagined it all, mind you. Definitely not in the days leading up to the party, either.

His response sparked something in her, and she kissed him with more energy, guiding his face towards hers just as gently. The sounds he was making were _delicious_.

“OH. UM,” a thoroughly startled female voice blurted out behind them. An awkward beat of silence was followed by a loud clearing of someone’s throat. Ryder kept on kissing him, thumb now gently stroking the side of his face, as if trying to coax more quiet sounds out of him. Sounds that he had stopped making once the intruder arrived, much to Ryder’s frustration.

Realizing the two lovers were too engrossed in each other to realize she was there, the woman muttered an apology and quickly made her retreat, rapid footsteps echoing away from the door and further into the hall.

Ryder felt the hands on her hips tighten ever so slightly before Reyes slowly broke away from the kiss. She opened her eyes to see him gazing over her shoulder, his eyes half-lidded but his shoulders stiff with tension. She pulled away slightly to give him room, catching his attention.

“I, um, I think we’re in the clear,” he drawled out.

His face was still so close to hers, and she could see how… _kissed_ and breathless the man looked. She liked it more than she thought she would. _Much_ more.

“Maybe another kiss?” she suggested, a light tilt to her voice, “Just, you know, just to be sure.”

Reyes chuckled suddenly, not able to resist a glance at her lips as he backed away gingerly. He let out a breath and all the tension in his body seemed to leave.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” he said softly.

Ryder chuckled as he turned back towards a nearby storage container and climbed up to continue his search.

“Finally!” he declared, hanging off the container like a sailor off a ship’s crow’s nest. “Here it is!”

He jumped back down, looking more triumphant than she would have expected for a man holding a bottle of…whiskey?

“Whiskey, Reyes? That’s what this whole thing was about? As much as I love the stuff, even this seems a little extreme for just one bottle.”

“ _Just whiskey?_ Ryder, this is the only bottle of Mount Milgrom in Andromeda. Triple-distilled and 645 years old. This isn’t just whiskey. It’s _treasure_.” At this point, Reyes was practically cradling the bottle and patting it affectionately, still looking at her with uncharacteristically soft eyes.

Ryder let out a surprised laugh, “Well, I hope you’re planning on sharing, at the very least.”

“We’ll see,” he grabbed her hand and started running out the door, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry, the angst cometh soon. A lot of the dialogue in this chapter and part of the next is taken from the game, but I really wanted to expand on the emotions and microreactions of the characters to set the stage for later. This is my first ever fic! So I hope you like it as the story progresses. <3


	2. The Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder and Reyes share some thoughts over an ancient bottle of whiskey, on an ancient alien world.

The view of Kadara Port from this high up was breathtaking. _It would make for a good sniper’s perch, although not a great defensible position_ , Ryder thought before a whiskey bottle suddenly appeared before her, snapping her out of her thoughts. _Right. Afterparty. Relax, Ryder._

She took the bottle gently from Reyes’ hand and had a sip, gazing out at the cityscape.

“Gorgeous isn’t it? I sometimes forget,” Reyes muttered, so softly that Ryder almost didn’t hear him.

After all the rough and bloody adventures they had shared on Kadara, the last thing Ryder had expected from the smuggler was this…unusually soft and pensive side. She knew he was an ordinary person, just like everyone else that came along on the Nexus and the Hyperion. They had chatted about his history with the Nexus before and how he had never felt quite right among the exiles, but how he also didn’t feel safe entrusting his future in the hands of Tann and the others. But seeing him in action made him seem like a whole different person. When they were taking down the Roekkar or hell, even facing down his vengeful ex in an abandoned shack, he seemed so confident and loud, so willing to stand up and take what he wanted for himself and for other people.

“Thank you, by the way,” his soft voice vibrated in the stillness.

“Hmm? For what?”

“Back when we ran into…Zia. What you said back there, about me being a better man. Thank you. It, uh, it meant a lot. Especially coming from you.”

Ryder turned to look at him, his eyes purposely staring down at his knees and a pinkness starting to flush his cheeks. Her heart stuttered unexpectedly before she shook it off and blamed it on the whiskey. She cleared her throat and handed the liquor back to him, “No problem, Reyes. I meant it. Sorry you had to deal with…well, all that.”

Reyes hummed in agreement and took a bigger swig this time, letting a comfortable silence settle over them for a few minutes.

“Ryder?”

“Yeah?”

“Was Andromeda everything you hoped it would be?”

The bottle was passed again.

Ryder stared at it for a while. She wanted to tell him _of course_ , just like she kept telling her squad and the rest of the crew back on the Tempest. She wanted to sell him the same inspirational crap she told the concerned folks back on the Ark, the ones coming straight out of cryo scared and wide-eyed. But the truth was, she’d been trying to make herself believe that everything was fine, _would_ be fine, for so long now that she just felt…tired. There was no one left to be honest with, no one left to admit her fears and worries to. Everyone had demanded that she fill her father’s shoes perfectly since Day One. Refusing to call her Pathfinder until she proved them wrong on Eos. Refusing to fully trust and accept her leadership. Expecting her to be...what was it Tann called her? _A beacon of light in the darkness_. The trouble was, she was still stuck in the darkness and being consumed by the insecurities that thrived in it, eating away at her with every step on alien soil. The beacon needed a spark, and there were only four people in the entire universe she had trusted to keep her afloat.

But two of them were dead. One was in a coma. …And the other was gripping a bottle of whiskey trying not to remind herself of everything she left behind in the Milky Way.

She eventually admitted, “I don’t know, Reyes. I’ve seen a lot of amazing things so far. Things that only belonged in my dreams. But we also had to make a lot of sacrifices to get here, too. Sometimes it feels like everyone is losing someone they love, or knows someone who lost someone they care about. …I know I did.”

Reyes finally turned and looked at her at that. She looked out at the people, trying not to think about her dad, distant as he was but a father all the same. Or her mom, who deserved so much more than life ever gave her…than her _dad_ ever gave her. Or her brother, who was stuck in a coma back on the Ark, oblivious to the pain and suffering this galaxy had brought them both. Oblivious to the aliens. Oblivious to their dad sacrificing –

She took another breath and shakily let it out. They probably weren’t drunk enough for this kind of talk. She shook her head and quickly passed back the bottle.

“But hey, every day is an adventure. Even my nights off are interesting,” she joked, forcing herself to make eye contact with him.

Reyes studied her for a second before nodding his head and smiling ever so slightly. He understood that some things were too tender to be shared, even after everything they’d been through together.

“What about you, Reyes? I don’t think I ever asked you why you came to Andromeda.”

Reyes took another swig of whiskey and stared out at the port. He nudged his leg a little to feel it bounce against the storage container they were sitting on. It dangled freely over the railing. He was silent for a long while, eyes glancing around in thought. He shook his head slightly, took in a deep breath, and paused.

“To - to be someone,” he exhaled.

“You are someone,” she replied, almost without thinking.

He let out a sad chuckle, “That’s just not true, Ryder. I am a no one…to everyone.” He gestured grandly at the people in Kadara Market below them, oblivious as to the two lost souls on the shipping crates above.

Ryder turned to look at him, his shoulder slouched, his eyes distant, and his white knuckles gripping the bottle of whiskey. Thinking back on it, maybe she said the next few words because she saw a bit of herself in him. Feeling lost and unimportant to the world, a world that only cared about what she did for them instead of _who_ she was.

But more likely, she said the next few words because deep down, she saw a man who had a golden streak of good in his soul. A man who cared about getting justice for the murders in the streets of Kadara Port, a man who joined up with the Resistance to fight for a greater cause, a man who put his life in danger to _live_ and to ensure that everyone else got a chance to live, too. He may be a thief, a smuggler, an exile, but all the good he did with the life he made for himself…that’s what made her reach out and put her hand on his arm.

“You are someone, Reyes. You’re someone **to me**.”

Reyes froze. His eyes stared down at where her hand laid, firm and warm on his arm. She kept her hand there, daring him to make eye contact with her, so he could see how much she meant it in her eyes. Slowly, his eyes danced back up to her face and hesitated there, studying her features. She studied his features in turn, realizing how familiar his face was to her now, more of a friend than a stranger these days. They had never really talked about their pasts - who they were back in the Milky Way and what they had gone through - but actions spoke louder than words, and she felt like she knew a multitude of things about him from the short time they had spent together on Kadara.

He let out a soft breath that he had been holding, and it moved some of the strands of her hair back from her face. She looked up to meet his eyes and realized with a sudden start at how close they suddenly were. She wished she could blame the whiskey for how intoxicating his eyes looked at this distance, but the way her breath stuttered suggested otherwise. At the mere thought of more whiskey, though, her brain caused her to lick her lips in anticipation, immediately catching Reyes’ curious eyes.

Reyes was staring at her lips now, almost entranced. Ryder just stared back, unsure where all this was going, how serious this was all starting to feel. She smirked and let out a soft chuckle to try and defuse the tension, the intimacy, of the situation.

Reyes stared at her for a beat before letting out a similar chuckle. Instead of looking away, though, he brought his gloved hand up to her cheek and gently guided it towards his face, almost copying what she had done to him in the storage room.

“I, uh, I’m starting to think that maybe that kiss wasn’t just a distraction,” he suggested, fighting down the unconscious urge to make the statement sound more like a question.

He glanced at her lips then back at her eyes, waiting, silently asking. Pleading, if he was being honest with himself. They were way too close, Ryder thought. But then she remembered his hands, gentle and light on her hips, the soft and pleased sounds of content he made back there. She smiled again and just nodded, moving forward to meet him halfway in a kiss. He made that noise of surprise again, as if he hadn’t expected her to actually follow through.

\- - - - -

And as they kissed, if she eventually felt a wetness on her cheek where his eyes were shut tight in concentration, she didn’t say anything. Only moved her thumb across his face to wipe it away and kiss him deeper.

The realization of their situation washed over her like a gradual bath of warm sunshine. This wasn’t a casual thing anymore, was it? Judging by how he was slowly falling apart with every press of their lips together, maybe it never had been casual for him. Ryder gently bit his lip, and he responded with a soft growl under his breath. Although it was gentle and pleased in nature, it briefly reminded her of the anger in his voice when Zia had insulted her back out in the Badlands. It was the only time she had ever heard real emotion break through his suave and composed demeanor. She felt her heart stutter again and instead tried to shift her focus on coaxing more sounds out of him to file away for later.

\- - - - -

“ _He likes you, you know,”_ _Keema’s voice echoed in her mind._

 _Yeah, I’ve gotten that impression,_ she thought as she looked over at Reyes, head now laying on her shoulder, sleeping quietly as a purple and crimson red sunrise painted Kadara Port. The stress he usually wore didn’t show a bit, and for a minute there, she could see hints of the man he must have looked like back on the Nexus. Back when things were simpler, before he was pushed out to make a life of his own in this galaxy. All by himself.

“Not alone anymore, Reyes,” she whispered into his hair, causing a small murmur in response from the still sleeping man.

She smiled at the sound before resting her head gently atop his.

_…And maybe, neither am I._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would the sun ever set on Kadara? I didn't think the planet was locked to a one-side rotation around its system's star, but I could be mistaken. Curse you, planet lore, making me question the feasibility of symbolic sunsets in a romantic scene.


	3. The Small Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder gains back someone she loves at a time when she needs it the most. Her heart's never loved this many people at once, and she's so afraid that it's all going to overflow. But maybe it's okay. Just this once. For just one man.

It had been a week since she and Reyes had their whiskey-fueled night out on the town. From the moment she stepped back onto the Tempest, Ryder had felt…off balance. Like she was floating, like some weight she carried on her shoulders had turned into sand and crumbled right off. It was a breath of fresh air – but also like learning how to walk again. How to breathe in the right amount of air and how to line up the perfect shot. It felt familiar and new all at the same time, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was okay with how off-kilter it pushed her.

Jaal picked up on it first. Perhaps it was because the strange and confident alien had rapidly become one of his best friends and he relished in memorizing every little detail of her, or maybe it was because he had spent more time looking down the scope of a sniper rifle than he did doing anything else in life. It was more than likely a mixture of both, but the next time they landed on Havarl and started taking down a few Roekkar camps, he immediately noticed how Ryder’s breathing became heavier when she lined up her shots, instead of the usual shallow and even breaths that timed every shot. He noticed how much effort she was putting into pulling the trigger these days. Not the kind of hesitation that comes with a person’s first kill, but the kind that hints at a lack of rifle practice. But judging by all the kett they’ve been taking down since they first fought together, he knew that practice was not something Ryder was missing out on.

Vetra noticed it second. Ryder was usually the one looting the bodies of the bad guys that crossed their path, but lately she walked right past the corpses where they lay. Vetra didn’t think too much of it the first time it happened, but the fourth time, she saw a protein sludge peeking out of a raider’s pants pocket and bent down to pick it up. Ryder took one look at the body, made a disgruntled sound, and kept walking. The turian exchanged a look with PeeBee, who responded with a small frown and a shrug of her shoulders before running to catch up with the human. It wasn’t until Vetra stood back up and looked at all the bodies that she realized - all of them had bled out from the collarbone. There wasn’t a single headshot among them.

 

\- - - - -

 

Reyes had sent her a few emails since she left, but she didn’t have the heart to reply to any of them. Every draft she started was abandoned two sentences in. Nothing she typed out could match his tone, nothing could match the emotion that came through in his words. She was starting to get the feeling that he cared more about her than she ever could, and it left her feeling embarrassed and angry. Maybe she picked up after her dad more than she realized.

Ryder leaned back in her chair and huffed.

The last email she got from Reyes felt more familiar, more overtly flirtatious and charming. But something had felt off about it. There was an overall feeling of…finality to it that she couldn’t pin down. She set down her coffee mug, scooted her chair back in, and immediately started a draft. This time, she got three sentences in before her inbox pinged again.

Her eyes flickered over to the subject line once. Then back again. Her heart leaped and hovered in her chest, and her eyes gradually got wider and wider. Her expression glazed over with shock for a brief second before she leapt up and practically stumbled out of her chair in a sprint towards the door of her quarters.

“Kallo!” she shouted over the comms as she ran up towards the bridge, “We need to get to the Nexus! NOW!”

“Right away, Ryder!”

She felt the kick of the ship as she staggered onto the bridge, jacket half flung on, looking like a wild woman with the stupidest grin on her face.

Kallo froze mid-control and stared at her.

“It’s Scott,” she breathed out.

 

“He’s awake.”

 

\- - - - -

 

Another week had passed, and Ryder had a spring in her step. Scott had had a tough time adjusting to…well, the entire galaxy, but with all things considered, he was still the same sarcastic younger brother she knew and loved. It had been an overwhelming relief to be able to talk to him again without the fear of putting him back into a state of comatose shock. But she still couldn’t tell him everything. Not yet. She had _months_ of problems and worries still clinging to her like thorns, and it would be unfair of her to unload all of that on Scott in his first few _days_ awake in an entirely new galaxy. So she saved the really awful stuff for later, and instead waxed poetic to him about the blue and purple jungles of Havarl and the primordial paradise of Eos. …And of course, her headshot count.

“I think that means you owe me a beer now.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Renee. I was in a coma for the past few months! Of course you caught up to my count!”

“Pshh, excuses, excuses. You snooze you lose, bro.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, I don’t believe you.”

“Ugh. FINE.”

“You’re getting a beer out of all this, Scott, why are you even complaining?”

“Yeah, but _I_ have to pay for it. I haven’t been getting a paycheck for the past few months because…oh yeah, I’ve been in a _coma_ for the whole damn time.”

“…Wait, you think I’m getting paid for being Pathfinder?”

“…You’re not?”

Ryder laughed, “If you count uncomfortable bureaucratic visits and glares from Addison as payment, then sure. “

“I’m a goddamn millionaire,” she winked.

Scott let out a dramatic gasp of disbelief.

“Right then. I’m buying you that beer. And we’re getting SO drunk that I don’t remember who I am and I’m going to TP every damn bureaucrat’s office on the Nexus.”

 

\- - - - -

 

Much to Ryder’s disappointment, Scott passed out after one beer.

_Shame, really._ She would’ve relished in the memory of walking with Addison to her office, just to see the look on the Director’s face when it was all covered in soggy toilet paper. _Ah well, there’s always the next Nexus visit._

The Tempest seemed alive again with Ryder’s bright eyes and confident laughter, and the Heleus wastelands never felt more exciting. Jaal breathed a sigh of relief when he watched her pick off enemies during the next mission. She was still having to adjust her aim, but the confidence in her stance was renewed. Vetra let out a chuckle when the first shot knocked the raider down off his sniper’s perch.

“Right between the eyes!”

 

\- - - - -

 

She hadn’t heard from Reyes for a week now. If she was being honest with herself, she missed him. Immensely. No one in the galaxy (or hell, even the last one) had ever looked at her with so much…affection in their eyes. No one had ever cared that much about Ryder in her life, and it made her miss and fear Reyes at the same time. She’d gotten by in life without throwing her heart around to every smooth-talking vagabond that came her way, and there were plenty of those out in the Milky Way, even among nerdy archaeologists. So why did one suave smuggler whom she knew nothing about catch her eye in the end? Why did she feel pulled towards him with such a force that the only thing she could do was panic and try to swim away?

Maybe she didn’t like the dependence it made her feel.

He had felt too much like a crutch, especially in the aftermath of their time together, where she was left reeling with strange emotions that had crawled their way around her heart. A small part of her brain felt like she _needed_ to see him again, and the rest of her body immediately flinched. She didn’t _need_ anyone, damn it. She didn’t need her dad when she was knee-deep in mud, defending a group of researchers from mercs back in the Milky Way. She didn’t even need her brother when – who was she kidding, she always needed her brother. And her mother. Damn, she missed her.

_I should have spent more time with her. Stayed home and took care of her instead of traveling the stars doing peacekeeping work._

Ryder let out a deep sigh and rubbed her face with her hands.

“Pathfinder, you have new email at your terminal. It appears to be from an encrypted source, which I have traced back to Sloane Kelly,” SAM chimed in.

Ryder frowned in confusion, “Kelly?”

“Yes, Pathfinder. The subject line of her email includes the word Urgent.”

Ryder brought up the email on her terminal, eyes rapidly scanning the few words in the message. Kelly hadn’t given her the slightest clue what was going on, just that she needed to see Ryder immediately.

She sighed and headed up to the bridge.

“Kallo, set a course for Kadara. Gil, give the old gal’s drive cores a little boost to get us there faster, could you?”

“What’s the rush, Ryder?” Kallo asked over his shoulder.

“It’s Kelly. Sent me an email saying she needs to see me yesterday.”

“Ooh, I didn’t know you had a thing for exiles with different colored eyes and gnarly burn scars, Ryder,” Gil’s voice teased over the comms.

“You’re positively hilarious, Gil,” Ryder replied dryly.

“Honestly,” she said to Kallo, “If I have to smooth things over with her and the Initiative one more time, I’m going to freaking retire and move to a small cave on Eos where no one will ever ask me to do anything anymore ever.”

Kallo let out a bright chuckle, “That’ll be the day.”

\- - - - -

There was nothing quite like seeing the beauty and brilliance of Kadara’s wastelands from the sky, only to have it mired by all the blood and grime of the port.

Ryder stepped off the ship and immediately into the crowds, hoping to blend in and avoid any suave-talking smugglers. Part of her was embarrassed that she had never replied to him. She had thought about it on the way here, even bringing up the last half-written draft she had started, maybe to tell him that she’d been to visit her brother, who finally woke up from his coma…but why would he care? They weren’t really a…well, it’s not like they were…hell, she didn’t know what they were.

Maybe it was something they could have worked out via email if she had bothered to continue that conversation. God, she was a mess. He deserved someone else. She wasn’t cut out for this.

Ryder shook her head clear and took a deep breath. She could deal with him later, work out…what they were, if they could ever be a thing at all. But that was for later. Right now, she had a dangerous exile sending her demands and for all she knew, she could be walking into the galaxy’s biggest political shitstorm. She didn’t need anything distracting her right now.

She was still trying to compensate her aim 5o to her left from the last time she got distracted.

The moment she stepped through the customs area, a harsh female voice rang in over her comms. She had expected Kelly to keep tabs on when the Tempest came into dock, but the last thing she had ever expected was to hear how _desperate_ Sloane Kelly’s voice sounded, practically demanding her presence in the throne room.

“Now,” Kelly bit out in her earpiece. Ryder bristled and steeled herself on the walk to Outcast HQ, the handle of her small combat knife rubbing against her right shin.

Hopefully, the knife wouldn’t be needed.

_And hopefully, I’m not the idiot bringing a knife to a gunfight_ , _either._

 

_\- - - - -_

 

Ryder’s soft footfalls felt too loud on the walk up to Kelly’s scrappy throne. “So…where is everyone?”

Kelly snapped, “I told them to get out of my sight.”

“….Bad day, huh?”

“It’s…it’s Kaetus.” _Wait, what?_ “The Charlalatan used my own men to beat him up. Sent his body back with a note and just enough blood left in his system to survive.”

_Shit. This was…bad._

“I’m…I’m sorry, Sloane. I, uh, knew you and Kaetus were close…”

“You. Don’t. Know. Shit.”

Ryder saw the swirls of sadness and desperation in Kelly’s eyes, swirls that ignited in white-hot flames of anger and impatience.

“The note -  the Charlatan wants to settle things. One on one.”

“Mm, sounds like a trap.”

“You think?” Sloane scoffed. “I can’t trust my own damn people, but you…you’re an outsider. And you’ve proven yourself to be….reasonable in the past.”

_Shit. This was…really bad._ She had always wished Sloane Kelly would wake up one day and think, “Hey, you know, that Ryder’s alright. I think I’ll get on her good side.” But she did not expect Sloane to be asking for help with something like this - asking Ryder, of all people, to watch her back in the world’s most obvious ambush.

“So, what do you think?” Sloane’s voice almost wavered in its confidence.

Ryder took one look at her and saw the brimming fractures in Sloane’s façade of nonchalance. This woman had been hurt, and as much of a bitch she was and had been…she needed backup.

And Renee Ryder never leaves a solider to walk through a minefield alone. Even if that soldier thought she was better than her. And had a hell of a power complex. And ran a city that encouraged murder and drug abuse. _Fuck, this was complicated._

“Alright,” Ryder sighed heavily. “Where’s this taking place?”

“I’ll send you the navpoint and meet up with you there.” Sloane stood up from her throne and rushed towards the exit, hand already hovering near her pistol.

With another deep sigh, Ryder pulled up her comms.

“Jaal? Vetra? You guys feel like getting out of the port and into the Badlands to kill some bad guys?”

“ _Please_ ,” Jaal’s desperate voice pleaded on the other end.

She smirked and headed down to the slums to meet up with the rest of her crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you hear it? The bittersweet chords of angst in the distance, closing in fast.


	4. The Betrayal

Kelly was practically buzzing with nervous energy by the time Ryder and her squad drove up in the Nomad.

“Took you long enough,” she scoffed. “Come on, let’s do this. Eyes sharp.”

Ryder nodded and pulled out her rifle, signaling Jaal and Vetra to be on their guard. The group moved into the cave slowly and carefully behind Kelly.

“Everything about this cave feels like a trap, Ryder,” Vetra whispered, the uneasiness in her voice flanging out through her subvocals.

“Vetra is right. I don’t like this, Ryder. Not one bit,” Jaal muttered, hands flexing unconsciously on his rifle.

“I know. Keep your eyes peeled, guys,” Ryder replied. Every step she took into the cave felt more and more like a mistake. What if this was just all an elaborate plan to ambush her and her squad? Kelly pretending to be a damsel in distress, luring away Ryder only to kill her or hold her for ransom or...

No. Ryder had seen the look in her eyes. That kind of wild vengeance can’t be faked so easily. And certainly not by a woman like Sloane, who wore her anger and violent demeanor so loudly on her sleeve.

Still. Something about this felt like -

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Ryder’s heart stopped. Fuck, she was imagining things.

Except she wasn’t because everyone else in the group had turned towards where she heard the voice come from.

And out of the darkness of the cave, a familiar smooth-talking olive-skinned smuggler stepped into the light. Ryder barely held back a flinch, her brain talking over itself as her hands unconsciously flipped the safety off.

_No. No, no, no, no._

Reyes Vidal loomed above them, standing on the edge of a natural overhang in the cave structure. His face seemed more alien than human now, the harsh and unnatural lighting from the Kadara sun peeking through the cracks in the cave and casting disconcerting shadows on his features. Seeing him like this made her realize with a start why other people thought he was dangerous.

For a very short second, Ryder almost thought it wasn’t him. Those weren’t his soft, whiskey-colored eyes. Those weren’t the same soft-looking, whiskey-tasting lips. Couldn’t be. He was the misplaced soul she found in the wastelands of an alien planet, not a dangerous mercenary who enjoyed other people’s pain. Out of the corner of her eye, Ryder saw Jaal tense up in recognition and that small shift in body language is what helped her brain click into place.

_Fuck. It is him. …Vidal had been fucking playing her this whole time. Preyed on her, tore her down, and used her._

Ryder’s mind started screaming as her hands started gripping her rifle with confused anger. At that moment, Sloane stepped forward, sizing him up with her eyes before dismissing him, “I’m here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler.”

Ryder’s eyes were glued on Vidal, and the damn smirk on his face broke her heart.

“They’re one and the same,” she realized, trying to take a step back but finding herself frozen on the spot. _Of all the people to weave your trust into. **Goddamn** it, Ryder._

“Surprise,” Vidal’s deadpan voice responded. His eyes looked cold and focused, and she felt sick to her stomach.

“This whole time…you’ve been _lying_ to me,” Ryder half-yelled, fighting viciously to keep her voice under control.

“Not about everything,” he countered, a little too quickly, “Ryder. _You_ know who I _really_ am.”

And if that didn’t bring back memories of their night on the town, soft whiskey-flavored kisses on this alien world they were trying to make a home. Lies. All lies. He had weaseled his way into her life, taking advantage of her affection while he exploited her title. He was the same as all the rest, only caring about what she could do for him, what her title could do for him…he didn’t care about who she was. Why would he?

“Playing the angaran spy, looking into the murders around the Port, gaining contacts as a smuggler…” _Using me and the privileges that come with being Pathfinder for your own personal gain._ “This was all part of your master plan since the very beginning.”

“And it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

He had the damn nerve to admit that he was using her to her own damn face? In front of Jaal? And Vetra? The two people she trusted more than anything in the world?

Sloane’s voice cut through with barely contained frustration, “You said you wanted to ‘settle things’. How?”

….And even in front of Sloane Kelly. God, this was embarrassing. She could kill him right here.

Reyes leaped down from his perch, “A duel. You and me. Right here, right now. Winner takes Kadara Port.”

Fuck. _Sloane_ could kill him right here.

“You’re going to settle this by shooting at each other?” Ryder exclaimed in disbelief.

Reyes glanced at her, eyes burning and focused, “It’s less bloodshed this way. Two people shoot at each other to avoid two entire groups from shooting at each other.”

“I – “

“Deal.” Sloane’s words chopped the edge off of Ryder’s sentence.

Reyes grinned and slowly moved his hand near his holster. Sloane smirked and mirrored him, the two now starting to slowly circle each other in this small musky cave.

Vetra had already stepped back to let the two sort it out, and Jaal seemed conflicted between joining Vetra and staying next to Ryder. For a person who was used to making quick decisions, the Pathfinder found herself stunned. The two rivals were slowly dancing around each other in front of her, but the rest of the world seemed to be spinning, everything locking into place too fast for her to react. _There has to be a better solution. There HAS to._ Ryder started frantically darting her eyes around, hoping to find a plan in the stalactites of the cave.

_Reyes could die._ The bastard deserved it at this point, but still. _Sloane could die._ Fuck, that wouldn’t look good, either. Pathfinder follows Outcast leader into the Badlands and leader ends up dead.

That’s when she saw it.

A glint in a dark corner of the cave. The reflection of the sunlight on a scope.

_Sniper._

_…Fuck._

Ryder wanted to scream, but nothing came out. She wanted to step forward and push Sloane out of the way on pure instinct, but the ground had clamped her feet in iron cuffs. All she could do was stare at the scope helplessly, flickering her eyes back to Reyes in a silent plea, then flickering over to Sloane as if she could telepathically yell out to her. Neither payed attention to her, of course, their eyes glaring directly across to the other. Then Reyes twitched his finger and Sloane was on her knees, clutching her chest, stumbling to the ground.

“No.” Ryder wheezed out. “No. No no no.”

“Bang.” Reyes pretended to shoot Sloane as her body slowly crumpled on the floor.

Ryder glanced up at where she saw the scope, and now she saw the silhouette of a man holding a sniper rifle, barrel still smoking from the shot. Frightened and shaken, her own fingers twitched over her pistol. Was he going to shoot her next? Eliminate the witnesses? Seize total power for himself?

Reyes glanced behind him and his eyes danced down to her hand, now hesitantly hovering over her holster. He looked back up at her, and when their eyes met, she felt a chill rush over her, making her clutch her pistol reflexively. Reyes nodded his head and took a step back from Sloane’s body, motioning to someone in the distance.

“Get rid of the body. Prepare the crew. Kadara Port is ours tonight,” Reyes ordered to the sniper and two other soldiers waiting in the shadows, as he began sauntering towards her and her team.

Ryder’s mind was short-circuiting, desperately trying to process everything.

_Get rid of the body? …He wants to dump the body. Throw it in a corner somewhere, like the corpses littered throughout Kadara Slums. The lifeless husks of people who once laughed and danced. Who loved. **People who loved.**_

Ryder stepped back out of her frozen state.

“Don’t TOUCH her body,” Ryder growled between her teeth. The sudden venom in her voice stopped the Collective soldiers in their tracks and brought Reyes’ confident stride to a screeching halt.

“You don’t get to touch her body,” Ryder repeated, each word like a cinder block slamming on the ground. She turned her head to the side and just barely in control of her own voice, asked, “Vetra, do we still have a shovel in the back of the Nomad?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do, Ryder. ….I’ll go grab it.”

“Thank you.”

The Collective soldiers shot Ryder a confused glance and hesitated to move towards Sloane when they saw the fire in her eyes. They chanced a glance at the Charlatan, only to see him wearing the same confused look.

“What are you doing, Ryder?” Reyes said in a slow and even tone.

“What do you think?” She spat out.

“…I think you’re about to get your hands dirty trying to bury a woman who’s not worth your time – “

The blood from Sloane’s bullet wound had started to ooze out and form a crimson puddle on the floor of the cave. Ryder happened to glance down at it and saw red.

“Get my hands dirty? **Get. My Hands. Dirty?** My hands are already _fucking_ dirty, Reyes. Her blood is on my hands as much as it is on yours.”

“That’s not true, Ryder. _He_ pulled the trigger, not you,” Reyes gestured over at the sniper near Sloane’s body, who was still staring cautiously at the two.

Ryder barked out an ugly laugh. “Oh, that’s right. Your SNIPER killed her. You use her own people to beat her lover within an inch of his life only to send him back to her with a tattered note on his chest, body barely breathing. Then she comes here and you, Reyes Vidal, invite her to a fucking duel like you’re some goddamn glorified cowboy duo.

She came here to fight by your terms and you didn’t even kill her. Your fucking _sniper_ did.”

At this point, Ryder was inches away from him, her fists clenched, her whole body vibrating with the need for violence, for revenge, for justice. _At least Reyes had the decency to look surprised._

Reyes felt close to breaking, but his voice didn’t betray him. In cautious tones, he said, “….I didn’t know you were batting for Sloane’s team this whole time, Pathfinder.”

“I wasn’t.”

Reyes remained confused.

“Sloane was a real piece of work, a woman corrupted by the power her exiled freedom gave her. Because of her, I saw dead bodies from the moment I landed in Kadara Port. Because of her, I saw people trapped in cages behind half-eaten human corpses swimming in blood. Because of her, the Roekkar gained popularity across the cluster and they took children away from their own damn families to fight each other.”

Jaal stiffened behind her, his facial expression clearly disturbed at the memories on Havarl. Reyes only saw the angara in his peripheral vision. He was too afraid to look away from the thunderstorm that was Renee Ryder, vibrating in place with anger but controlling it with the ease of a god.

“That’s exactly why she had to die, Ryder. But she also had a lot of supporters,” Reyes offered cautiously, “If they find the body like this - I can’t leave the body here. I need to dispose of it.”

Her eyes flared and he knew he fucked up.

“Dispose of **it**? Of IT? That is a fucking human being you’re talking about. You don’t dispose of someone who was alive not 5 minutes ago and standing here because you beat her lover within an inch of his life.”

And that, the fact that the Charlatan had used Sloane’s own fear tactics to lure her out was an idea that belonged to a monster. He was no better than Kelly, and the thought that he could just manipulate another person’s love for their partner like that…it set her blood aflame.

Ryder took two steps toward him and grabbed him roughly by the collar, “I didn’t travel for 645 fucking years to another fucking galaxy to start dehumanizing people, Vidal, even if they _are_ criminals,” she spat out. “We. Bury. Our. Dead.”

The air in the caves felt electric tense. The last time she was this close to him, he was kissing her, the taste of whiskey on their tongues and the smell of gun oil from her leather jacket. The last time they were this close, he was falling asleep on her shoulder and letting her take the bottle away from his clenched fingers and replacing it with her own hand, soft yet firm all the same. He saw no softness in her eyes anymore. He had betrayed a trust that she had so willingly placed in him, and now he faced the barrel of a gun in the hardness of her eyes.

Behind her, he saw a blur of purple and blue as Jaal slowly took a step forward and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “Ryder,” he said softly, his breath blowing her hair back.

The intimacy of the gesture felt like ice in Reyes’ blood. He immediately felt Ryder’s hands release his scruff and felt the puff of air in his face as she let out the breath she’d been holding. She nodded at Jaal, who released his hand, and turned towards Vetra, waiting awkwardly on the side with a shovel in hand. She didn’t even acknowledge the Collective soldiers who had their guns aimed at her since she grabbed Vidal moments ago. Instead, she took the shovel gingerly from Vetra’s hands, muttered a thank you, and walked towards Sloane’s body.

Ryder let out another breath then started digging the spot next to Sloane.

“You’re – you’re going to bury her here?” Reyes asked softly, wincing at how loud his voice still sounded in the silence.

“I can’t exactly carry her lifeless body into Kadara Port and bury her there, now can I?” Ryder snapped.

The entire cave stood there in excruciating awkward silence as Ryder, oblivious to them all, started digging into the coarse dirt floor of the cave. Behind her, Reyes just watched for a minute before silently gesturing to the rest of the soldiers to leave. They hesitated, glancing between her and the Charlatan, the sniper simply arching an eyebrow at Reyes.

“Go.”

The sniper shrugged and motioned for the rest of the men to follow him as they lugged their rifles over their shoulders and out into the Kadara Badlands.

\- - - - -

She should kill him where he stood. She should finish digging this grave, shoot him once in the heart (maybe another time in the groin for good measure), and then push him and Kelly both into the grave.

_Fuck._ Ryder paused a moment, gripping the handle of the shovel now buried in the ground. Pretending to catch her breath from exhaustion when really, she was trying to prevent her emotions from letting her murder someone she cared about in cold blood.

_You wouldn’t really do it,_ a small part of her brain mocked.

She gripped the shovel harder.

_Don’t fucking test me right now, me._

She kept digging. Reyes was typing away on a datapad in the corner behind her. She could hear his gloved fingers hitting the screen with each letter he spelled out. She kept digging and refused to think about how those fingers had once curled around her hip or touched the side of her face before stealing a kiss. She scowled at the thought, rubbing the side of her face unconsciously, trying to play it off like she was wiping off sweat.

Ryder kept digging.

\- - - - -

Fifteen minutes later, Reyes emerged from the corner he was huddled in, one hand on a datapad and the other reaching hesitantly towards Ryder’s shoulder. From this close, he could hear her whispering to herself and he looked at his hand again, thinking better of it and letting it fall to his side instead.

Ryder hadn’t seemed to notice his presence, and if she did, she didn’t acknowledge him. Her hands were resting on top of the shovel’s handle, her head bowed in reverence, and she was speaking so softly he almost couldn’t hear her.

She was whispering, “May the spirits watch over you, from this galaxy and beyond. May the spirits of the lands you have traveled forgive you and guide you towards better things. And may the spirits of the ones you loved - the _one_ you loved – be there to comfort you when the time arrives.”

She paused and opened her eyes, letting out a deep breath before turning around and coming face to face with Reyes.

“Were you…praying just now?” his voice squeaked out.

Ryder didn’t respond. Only raised an eyebrow.

Vetra stepped in and gently took the shovel from Ryder’s hands, softly muttering, “I wasn’t aware you knew turian blessings, Ry.”

“Yeah, well…” Ryder trailed off. Vetra looked at her and Reyes for a beat before heading back to the Nomad, trying to tug Jaal along with her. Jaal just grunted and walked back with her only halfway before tucking himself into a dark corner and keeping an eye on Reyes from a distance.

“Uh – turian prayers, Ryder?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s what Kaetus would have wanted,” she bit out.

Reyes couldn’t stop a scoff from coming out. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for the man. Kaetus was an asshole, responsible for many of the same deaths you seemed to be so angry about. Threatening him was the only way we could get Sloane to step out of her precious throne room and into our trap.”

“You’re a fucking monster, you know that? I replaced one tyrant with another.”

“I’m not a tyrant,” he snapped, instantly feeling like a child.

She raised one eyebrow and stepped towards him, “Sloane had people killed because they couldn’t pay her protection fees. What’s your new going price?”

“I – “

“Sloane didn’t give a fuck about the angaran people that this world rightfully belongs to. She put on elaborate social shows to placate them and create the illusion of care. I wonder when your first party will be.”

“Ryder – “

She took another step towards him, “I wonder if you’ll invite me to this one, too, or have I outplayed my usefulness as a Pathfinder? Is there nothing more you can exploit me for?”

“Renee!” he shouted. Ryder didn’t even flinch.

For all his bravado, Reyes Vidal stood before her, fists clenched in anxious balls, eyes wide and desperate. Why the hell did he care so much about what this one woman thought of him? He stared at her, at the blood still smeared on her holstered pistol from when Ryder carried Sloane’s body over to the grave she dug with her own sweat.

He didn’t deserve her. This white knight who had made him feel like his life suddenly had meaning, whose words at the top of Kadara Market had spurred him into action, to be someone, to be someone _to her_. He truly was someone, she had to see that. Had to see he was worth it. Had to see - but that was the problem. She did see.

And she didn’t approve.

He had taken the life of someone so that _he_ could be someone. And the worst part was, he didn’t feel a lick of guilt. Yes, he had Kaetus beaten almost to death. Yes, he had him delivered to Sloane with a challenge stuck to his almost lifeless body. But Sloane had deserved it - hadn’t she? Ryder didn’t realize this was how things got done in Kadara, there was no honor here, no humanity. People killed each other for simple pleasures. This was Kadara justice. Or - or maybe he could have done it differently. Could have challenged her to a proper duel, could have risked his life to beat her…but if he had died, Kadara would have stayed the way it was. More innocent people would die.

”Why didn’t you tell me?” a sad voice interrupted his thoughts.

Reyes looked up and met Ryder’s piercing brown eyes, which softened slightly when their eyes met. Her crossed arms said she was done with him, but her eyes - her eyes still felt like they saw to the core of him. The white of her armor glinted in the sunlight that peeked through a hole in the roof of the caves, and he flinched. She deserved the truth. They both knew it.

“I – “ he started. He looked down at his feet and steeled himself before bringing his eyes back to hers. “I liked the way you…looked at me.” Spirits, he felt pathetic.

He elaborated, “Back when I was just a Resistance spy. When I was just…me. And I was afraid that would change if you knew about…the things I’ve done, the person I had to become to all the people here who couldn’t deal with Sloane anymore.”

He was looking at her expectantly, his eyes completely unguarded, his arms at his side, his shoulders slouched and almost defeated. Here in this hidden cove of shady caves, his eyes looked so bright and honest, so full of promises and regrets. Ryder just stared at him, her mind teetering between wanting to believe him (so desperately it hurt) and wanting to walk away and write him off as another target of misplaced trust.

“You – you’re not the man I thought you were,” she blurted out.

And just like that, Reyes’ eyes seemed to dim. He seemed almost resigned as he breathed out, “Believe me. I wanted to be.”

The two of them were quiet for a spell, neither knowing what to say next. How broken was this relationship and where would they even begin fixing it? Reyes fidgeted in place and Ryder glanced up at him. How could he kill a person in cold blood and then look like a nine year old boy telling his first crush how he felt? How could he look so _good_ of a person if he’d done such awful things?

_You know why,_ she told herself, _you know he’s not all bad. Desperate times, desperate measures, all that._

_Yeah, or I’m letting myself become disillusioned to his crimes because I’m emotionally biased,_ she fought back.

_Fuck._

With a heavy sigh, Ryder covered her face with a gloved hand. For one thing, he wasn’t the pure, selfless man she thought he was. …But he wasn’t the evil monster she thought he was, either. He was more complex than that. Sometimes good people do bad things out of desperation – Liam had told her that once when she asked about his experiences in HUSTL. She sighed again.

_If there’s one thing I know about Reyes Vidal, it’s that everything he does has a purpose._

Keema’s voice filtered through her memories as Reyes continued to fidget in front of her. She finally removed her hand from her face and looked him in the eye. She needed time to sort this all out.

“I need to get back to the Tempest,” she said, suddenly all business. “I’ll hold off on contacting Tann or Addison about what happened here. But as soon as you’re ready to talk about the future of Kadara Port and the potential relationship between the exiles and the Nexus, let me know.”

Reyes stared at her, caught off guard by her sudden switch to professionalism.

“Sure. Sure, Pathfinder. I’ll – I’ll contact you by the end of the day.”

“Good.”

Ryder glanced down at his hands briefly, contemplating whether to shake his hand in accord, but decided against it. The last thing she needed was physical contact with him.

Instead, she simply nodded at him and walked away, sparing a glance at Sloane’s grave as she passed.

Reyes watched her walk off and let out a breath, only now noticing the angara sniper who had been lurking in a crevice in the distance this entire time. Jaal stepped out of the shadow and clapped Ryder on the shoulder briefly as she passed before giving Reyes one last pointed stare and following Ryder to the Nomad.

The smuggler heard a vehicle outside rev up and angrily drive away, and he was left alone with a grave and a silence that seemed to reach out and choke him. If anyone had been standing near the mouth of the cave, all they would hear for the next hour were strangled sobs.


End file.
